Beautiful Stranger
by Princess Kitty1
Summary: Rangiku Matsumoto had spent all twenty-two of her Valentine's Days alone. Then she meets a traveling businessman who promises to meet her for a date; same time, same place, every year. And somehow she thought it wouldn't get complicated... -AU-
1. The First Date

**A/N: **Thank you for stopping by! I'm known around here as Princess Kitty1, and this is my third GinRan fic. I love this pairing with a burning passion, to the point where I can't look at them without tearing up anymore. So I decided to give them some Valentine's Day attention. I hope you all enjoy it. :D

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

**Beautiful Stranger**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**The First Date**

Although the process of falling in and out of love was a year-round occurrence, like rain storms and department store sales, an early Pope decided to christen one particular day for its celebration, and somewhere along the timeline a bored jackass of an entrepreneur suggested commercializing it, thus making his big fat fortune. Meanwhile, his customers would run about for the rest of eternity, frantically picking up cheap cardboard cards decorated with cartoon characters for their schoolchildren, or purchasing oversized plush dolls for boyfriends and girlfriends, or grabbing a bottle of wine and some rose petals for a romantic evening in. And while it didn't seem like a bad idea to most – what in the world could possibly be worth celebrating more than _love _in all its tragedy and splendor? – some vehemently hated the holiday, as if it had personally taken a baseball bat to their cars or pets.

Rangiku Matsumoto, twenty-two years old, was one of them; at least, partially. She would have had nothing against the innocent holiday of purples, reds, and pinks if she hadn't spent all twenty-two of hers the exact same way: _alone_.

When she was a child, it hadn't bothered her; she would go to school, collect her mandatorily shared valentines, then go home and stuff herself with chocolate. There wasn't much to think about. In middle school, when her strawberry blond hair had been cropped short and puberty had struck like a burglar in the night, she'd started to notice the elementary trend evolve into a more meaningful display. All around her, the more popular girls would receive flowers and candygrams from their boyfriends or admirers; people would hook up and squeal to their friends about their new "romances." And Rangiku… well, she would smile and be happy for them.

Then came high school, where Rangiku threw herself headlong into all the activities she could fit onto her schedule: the international baccalaureate program, yearbook club, community service, student council, cheerleading. Her hair had grown out, her chest had filled to porn star proportions, and she'd lost count of all the wagging tongues that followed her down the halls. But even with the admirers, her determination to study and succeed had been off-putting to most; no guy had ever gathered up the courage to actually ask her out. And so she spent her four high school Valentine's Days without a valentine. A desk full of roses and candies, sure, but no strong arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Rangiku had gone to college, pre-law, then she'd realized that she hated the whole mess and changed majors a good three times before dropping out and enrolling in beauty school, much to the horror of her parents. She didn't care. They saw it as downsizing, wasting her potential, but so far she hadn't had an inkling of regret. She was doing what she loved, no matter how much closer it brought her to Valentine's Day and its empty promises.

"And then we're going to have a romantic lunch down at the café on Carson Avenue – you know, the one with its own private rooftop garden? – and after that we're going to the movies to watch that new Jennifer Aniston flick."

"Uh-huh," Rangiku said to the middle-aged woman on her chair, trying to look interested though her thick Boston accent was a bit hard to follow and either way, Rangiku couldn't care less. She lifted a section of hair and snipped in a nice straight line, letting split ends fall like snow around her feet.

"After that, he and I are going to go ice skating at the big outdoor rink downtown where they light the huge Christmas tree every winter, then he's treating me to a home-cooked dinner and some champagne, and after that," the woman sighed dreamily, "I'm guessing a line of rose petals leading into the candlelit bedroom."

"Sounds like fun," Rangiku pulled down the wet strands to make sure the ends were even, then turned the chair around to trim the woman's bangs. "Lift your head, darling."

She obeyed, a wistful smile on her face as she gazed up at Rangiku. "What will you be doing when you get off of work this evening? A beautiful girl like you _must_ have a handsome stud waiting at home." Her eyebrows waggled suggestively. "What's he look like?"

Rangiku thought for a moment. The only handsome stud waiting for her at home was her dog Louie, a little terrier with a stub of a tail and killer morning breath. "To be honest, he's a bit on the short side. Brown hair with some gray patches – "

"An older man!" the woman gasped.

" – and these chocolate brown eyes that I can't help but get lost in. Loyal to boot," Rangiku went on, letting her client believe whatever she wanted to. It wasn't like she was ever going to see her again; the city was huge, the salon she worked at pricier than others. Besides, it was better than telling her the truth: that Rangiku Matsumoto was likely going to spend Valentine's evening crying into a beer bottle after a long day of preparing other women for romantic dates with their lovers. She would then stumble home and pass out on her couch, where Louie would jump up to lick away her tears and makeup, which would result in him being just as sick as her in the morning.

It never failed. She had long since established it as tradition.

Later, when she had fluffed and curled her client straight to heaven, she found herself sitting in the chair of her friend and coworker Shinji Hirako, who also had a habit of letting his customers believe what they wanted about his love life. Being a male hair stylist, well, he just _had _to be gay, and often spun wild tales about a Fabio-esque stallion of a teacher that he'd had a fling with in high school – all lies, of course. He was spending Valentine's Day with his college sweetheart, a woman named Hiyori who refused to let him do her hair; unlike Rangiku, who pulled faces in the mirror as he ran his hands through her wavy locks.

"Another Valentine's alone. Now that's just sad." Shinji frowned at her as he experimentally clipped one section of hair, then got to work on braiding another. "Rangiku, if I weren't spoken for, I would be more than happy to take you to bed tonight. _Please_, do yourself a favor and at _least_ get laid."

Rangiku shook her head. "If I just pick up some random guy at the bar to take home, I'll feel even worse in the morning when I wake up and he's gone, probably back to his wife and kids." She sighed. "Why do people have to make such a big deal about Valentine's, anyway? It's just another day." Her reflection glared back at her. Damn it all, it just wasn't fair. She looked like a fucking prom queen and still couldn't get a boyfriend, though it wasn't like she had the time to go looking. Her days consisted of work, two meals, and sleep. Very rarely was she even able to go out with her friends.

"I agree with you. However, because it _is _an established holiday, we can't go about ignoring it. That would be like attending the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and trying to will the Shrek float out of existence because you just happen to hate Shrek." Shinji decided against the braid and undid it, but left the section of hair clipped up. "Doll yourself up, get out of the house, and find _someone _to celebrate with. I don't care who, so long as you wake up thinking, _Wow, what a fantastic night I had_! You deserve that much at least."

Rangiku smiled wryly. "Thanks Shinji," she stood up from the chair and admired her reflection. "I think I'll keep it like this. Shows off my ears."

"You do have pretty ears." Shinji waved her off as she went back to her chair to set up for her next appointment. Another hair coloring. _Sigh_. As if the surrounding smells of hair spray, shampoo, and conditioner weren't enough. Chemicals gave her migraines, but oh well. It had to be done.

Maybe Shinji was right, she thought as she glanced at the clock. She'd be off of work in a few more hours. There was no use in sitting around the house feeling sorry for herself; not when she was young and gorgeous and single. She needed to go out on the town, see what was happening. Hell, she could even take herself out on a date! Movies with popcorn that she didn't have to share, ice skating with no one holding her back, and chocolates that she could eat endlessly without worrying about looking fat.

She'd be her own boyfriend and make all the guys jealous by being happy without them!

…

Unfortunately, Rangiku was a bad boyfriend, the kind who got herself drunk so that she'd be easier to take advantage of. And so, Valentine's evening found her on the balcony of her high-rise apartment, leaning over the railing with a bottle in one hand and her foot swinging out into the open air. The night sky was thick with clouds, threatening snow; it was certainly cold enough.

She looked upon the city below, at the slow-moving traffic and the people walking up and down the streets. Her apartment building was located in the heart of downtown, where it was noisy, exciting, and glamorous. Rangiku had always loved such places. Really, she ought to have felt lucky to be living where she did, working where she did.

But as much as she swore that she wouldn't think about it – not today, of all days – she ended up wondering how much nicer it would be if she had someone to share it with. She lifted the bottle of alcohol to her lips and took a sip, hardly buzzed. It would take more than one or two more to get her the right amount of drunk to stop caring, but she didn't even have the heart to do that. She'd just be glad when the day was over, when spring arrived. She always felt happier in the spring.

"Excuse me!"

Rangiku frowned and glanced down at the bottle in her hand. What the hell, had she stumbled upon some alcohol genie? Where in the world had that voice come from? She squinted into its opening and heard a laugh that almost made her drop the bottle in surprise. Maybe she was drunker than she thought. For all she knew, she'd already passed out and was dreaming that she'd only had one beer.

"Yoo-hoo, over here!"

Oh. Rangiku had forgotten that her apartment building was situated next to one of the city's nicer hotels. She lifted her head, spotting a silver-haired man standing on the balcony of his suite directly across her own, his elbows on the rail and one ankle crossed over the other behind him. Dressed in a plain white button-up, a striped tie that flapped in the wind, black slacks and black shoes shiny enough to reflect the light from her apartment, she couldn't help but wonder if he was cold. "Beg your pardon, but you're not thinkin' of jumpin', are ya?"

"Jumping?" Rangiku took a step back from the rail. God, did she really look so pathetic that some random stranger would think her ready to end it all? "No! No, I'm sorry. I didn't scare you, did I?"

"Little bit," the man replied with a wide grin that reminded her of Shinji's. "I've heard a lot about Valentine's Day suicides. Don't blame 'em; it's a wretched holiday. Shouldn't kill themselves, though."

Rangiku smiled and nodded, then realized that he probably wouldn't be able to see the gesture very well. The buildings were in close proximity, but there was still quite a chasm between them. Funny how she'd never considered the possibility of talking to any of the hotel's occupants, though they were technically her ever-changing neighbors. "You don't like Valentine's Day?"

The man unfolded his arms, holding up his hands in a shrug. "It ain't my cup of tea." His arms lowered onto the railing again. "You, on the other hand, look like you should be out on the town, enjoying the night. Where's your boyfriend? He won't come over here to kick my ass for talkin' to ya, will he?"

Rangiku mimicked his shrug. "What boyfriend?"

"Ah, I see. That's how it is." The man turned his attention towards the street, as if he were thinking something over, then shifted it back to Rangiku. "Say, here's a thought. How about I take you out on a date?" Before she could object, he held up a hand. "I know, I'm a complete stranger, but I promise you won't even have to leave the balcony, nor will I have to leave mine."

Rangiku stared at him skeptically. What was this guy thinking? Did he have a few screws loose or something? "You and I are going to have a date… from right here?"

"Sure," the man pulled back from the rail. "Here's how it works. We'll both order takeout from the same place, hopin' it arrives at the same time, then we'll sit out here and enjoy the night. What do you say? I totally understand if you don't want to. I've got an awful case of jetlag so for all I know, I'm speakin' French and you're about to call the cops on me."

The comment had Rangiku giggling, which she very rarely did on Valentine's Day. Ah, what the hell. It's not like it would hurt. And besides, she felt like she could use an adventure. "Alright Stranger," she agreed, leaning down to put her beer bottle on the balcony floor. "Where do we order from?"

"Chinese sound good?"

"Chinese sounds perfect."

She gave him the number to a local delivery place, then waited as he placed his order. Once he was done, he flagged her down and she called the restaurant, settling for some lo mein and egg rolls. It was fairly late, after all. If she didn't finish it all, she supposed she could save it for the next day. She hung up the phone and took a seat on the chair that she kept out on her balcony. "So, does my Valentine's date have a name?" she asked him.

"Does mine?" he countered.

Rangiku thought for a moment. "I don't know," she smiled playfully. "What do you think my name is?"

The man laughed. "Now that ain't fair. You know how many names there are out there in the world?" He slipped his phone into his pocket. "But for the sake of this night, I think I'll call you Princess Fiona. Locked up in a tower, seemingly waitin' for your prince to come, and you certainly look like the type who enjoys piña coladas and gettin' caught in the rain."

Rangiku felt her cheeks heat up. God, she really was transparent, wasn't she? "Okay. What do I call you, then?" From the distance, she could see him tapping his chin.

"I'll be the Cheshire Cat, since my ex-girlfriend always complained about my disappearances. Here today, gone tomorrow, always grinnin'."

Rangiku's curiosity was piqued, but she kept the more personal questions to herself. They had just met – though if what he said was true, then this would be the only chance she had to ask. Oh well. It was one 'date;' she didn't need to know the guy's life story. So she settled for something safer. "Alright then, Mr. Cat. What brings you into the city?" she called out to him.

The silver-haired man leaned forward on the rail of his balcony. "I'm a traveling businessman," he answered. "Spend most, if not all of my time going from place to place. See, my father was in the military so for the better part of my childhood, I was moving around. Once we'd finally settled I was stricken with a rabid case of wanderlust and found that I couldn't stop moving."

Rangiku's eyebrows shot up. "That's interesting. Do you come to the city often?"

He nodded. "Guaranteed to be here on Valentine's Day every year. It gets a little repetitive." Pulling away from the rail, he dragged the balcony chair closer and sat down as well. "And what do you do for a living, Princess?"

Given his rather exciting lifestyle, she felt a bit embarrassed as she responded. "I'm a beautician."

"Hair, nails, eyebrows and all that jazz?"

"That's the gist of it."

"Well that's good! At least you get tips and stuff, right?" He smiled at her. "You're braver than I am. I couldn't stand there and rip the hair off of a person's face. It seems rather sadistic."

Rangiku tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You get used to it." Honestly, she felt more squeamish with manicures and pedicures, especially considering the fact that anyone could have unknowingly walked into the salon with a foot fungus that would get into her skin. She shivered.

The food arrived within half an hour. Rangiku and her date excused themselves to go downstairs and retrieve their orders, and she couldn't help but feel a little mystified. Was she dreaming? There was no way that she could be enjoying a semi-long distance date with a complete stranger. She must have pinched herself twice on her way to the lobby, just to be sure. When she hadn't woken up on the couch a hung-over mess, she allowed herself a feeling of giddiness, all but running back upstairs.

Oh, nobody at the salon would believe her if she told them about this. She was having a hard time believing it herself. This was just what she had needed: a no-strings-attached date that didn't end in unwanted sexual advances. He probably couldn't even tell how big her boobs were.

And so she spent the next two hours conversing with the silver-haired man about any safe topic they could think of: the recently passed Super Bowl, weather – a light snow shower had started after they'd finished eating – and where he was headed to next. He said he was due in Atlanta by the next evening, where he'd stay for about a week to attend a work conference, and from there it was up to Ohio. They complained about how the next day the supermarkets would already be filled with St. Patrick's Day decorations, not even giving people time to recover from their Valentine's escapades… or sexcapades.

Finally, Rangiku reluctantly excused herself at one in the morning; she was still expected at work, and he had an early flight to catch. As they stood from their respective chairs and stretched out their limbs, she turned to him once more. "Hey, thanks for keeping me company. It's been fun."

The man shoved his hands into his pockets. "No problem! I should be thanking you, actually. This is definitely the most interesting Valentine's Day I've ever had." They both shared a smile. "Say, how about we do this again sometime?" he asked innocently. "I'll be in town next year. If you don't have a valentine by then, that is."

Rangiku considered it. Well, he was certainly charming enough. What was a harmless date between new friends? "Sure," she answered, then added, "though my voice is a little hoarse, so perhaps we should actually go somewhere next time?"

"Fair enough. We could meet at that Mexican restaurant down the street, around seven o'clock?"

"Seven it is." Rangiku took a step back towards her balcony door and waved. "Have a nice flight tomorrow!"

"I won't. I hate flying!"

She laughed as she slipped into the warm apartment and slid the glass door shut. Louie scampered to her feet, whining and wagging his tail. Rangiku picked him up and walked to the living room, where she proceeded to throw herself down onto the sofa and turn on the TV. "You hear that, baby?" she asked the dog, who licked her nose affectionately. "I've got a date next year." The terrier snuffed. "Don't get jealous or anything."

Rangiku spent the better part of her night wondering what she would say to Shinji tomorrow, if anything at all. He would probably yell at her for getting mixed up with an older guy… then again, he'd said that he didn't care who she went out with, so long as she had fun.

And it _had _been fun. In fact, when she woke up the next morning and realized that she had dozed off in her clothes, she couldn't help but smile at the ceiling. "Wow," she muttered to herself, "what a fantastic night I had."

**To Be Continued**

**A/N: **I was going to make this a one-shot… then I realized that it would be too long again. XD Short story though. Five chapters, maybe, and it probably won't be finished by Valentine's Day, but hey, February still counts!

Now then, will Rangiku's mystery date show up next year, or was he taking her for a ride? I'm currently dying of the flu, so do bring a smile to my sick-addled body by letting me know what you thought!


	2. Face to Face

**A/N: **Welcome to Chapter Two, and Happy Valentine's Day!

_Trivia: _The title of this story comes from the song **Beautiful Stranger (Sliced Cheese Remix) **by **Clazziquai**.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted materials.

**Beautiful Stranger**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Face to Face**

"Don't forget to enter our Valentine's raffle for your chance to win one of these baskets from our latest product! It's totally free. Simply drop your name and phone number into the container and hang out for a while. One winner is selected every hour!"

From where she stood combing out her bangs, twenty-three year old Rangiku heard the long spiel committed to memory by all of the employees before coming into work that morning. It was Valentine's Day, and this year the salon was doing a promotional event for their latest line of shampoos and conditioners. Setting down her comb, she admired her reflection a moment before turning her eyes to the award she had won a few months prior. It was the greatest achievement of her beautician life thus far; even her parents were proud of her when she told them.

That aside, the past year had been fairly uneventful. She'd gotten into a fight with a neighbor whose dog had wound up pregnant and claimed that Louie had been responsible – Rangiku had produced papers proving that the dog was fixed to finally shut the woman up. She'd caught the flu on her birthday, as she was prone to illness at the most inconvenient times. She'd gotten a speeding ticket while going the speed limit, probably due to the fact that she was young and drove a Mustang. Ah, she'd competed against her friend Shuuhei Hisagi to see who could eat the most honey barbeque chicken wings and had won, then was sick for an entire week.

And now it was back to the same old song: February 14th, and she was preparing handfuls of glowing, happy women for dates with their significant others.

Only this year, she couldn't stop thinking back to three hundred and sixty-five days before, the night that she had spent on her balcony eating dinner with a perfect stranger. She was distracted throughout her appointments, wondering if the silver-haired businessman would make good on his promise.

Honestly, she wasn't expecting him to. He was a busy guy. What were the odds that he would remember such a commitment, especially after traveling all over the country and doing God knows what? She had half a mind to kick herself for even having the bad sense to put some faith into him. Massaging her client's wet scalp with her shampoo-covered hands, she decided that she wouldn't show up at the appointed meeting place expecting a date that night.

She would just dress up and go there for a drink, that was all. She'd just _happen _to be there.

Meanwhile, Shinji was none the wiser and still begging her to do something fun that night. He and his girlfriend had plans to go to a Valentine's party at some rooftop club downtown – for couples only – though Hiyori had repeatedly told him that she did _not _want to go. With his evening occupied, and having no idea what had transpired between Rangiku and her mystery man the year before, he was already worrying that she would be sitting in her bathrobe in front of the television, drowning her sorrows in alcohol or ice cream.

"Relax," Rangiku told him when they gathered for the drawing of a name for the raffle. "I was thinking of checking out that Valentine's Day thing that the aquarium has going on."

"The aquarium?" Shinji whined. "Sweetie, that stuff's for little kids!"

"It is not! I like the aquarium!" Rangiku frowned, shoving him away from her. "Sharks, fish, whales, stingrays –it's a woman's paradise." Shinji shook his head sadly and clicked his tongue, then both of them put on an enthusiastic face as the raffle winner of the hour was announced.

She would hope for nothing. It was just another night, and she was simply going to go out for the sake of going out.

What would she wear, though?

…

Whenever she was at the salon, Rangiku would leave Louie with a sweet teenager in her apartment building named Momo, who gladly watched the happy little terrier for her. With all that she worked, though, she sometimes worried that Louie would forget who his real owner was, but her fears were quickly put to bed the moment the door opened and the yapping dog came running. "Aww, who's mommy's little baby?" she cooed, scooping him up and enduring a volley of licks.

Holding the door open, Momo looked up at the two and smiled. "I think he really missed you today, Ms. Matsumoto. He kept moping around on the sofa with my dad," she laughed, reaching out to ruffle Louie's ears.

"Ah, well, I'm sure he'll be happy to mope around the house later. I'm going out for a bit tonight," Rangiku lifted Louie's paw and made him wave goodbye to the black-haired girl. "But I couldn't ask you to hold onto him any longer, and besides, he knows better than to tear anything apart while I'm gone." She reached into her work apron and withdrew ten dollars in tips, handing them to Momo.

The girl blushed; she was never good at accepting money for anything. "Oh, w-well you know it's never any trouble. Louie's always welcome in our house," she pocketed the bills quickly, hoping to put them out of sight and out of mind. "To be honest, I think Dad's especially fond of him."

"I am not!" came a gruff voice from inside the apartment.

"He's lying," both Momo and Rangiku said and grinned at each other.

With Louie wriggling and anxiously wanting to be put down, Rangiku made her way back to her apartment, all the while filling the dog in on the details of her day. She was happy to find the place nice and clean, as she had a tendency to let messes accumulate for a few days before she set about putting things where they belonged, and she was far too tired to pick up after herself tonight.

Glancing out of the sliding glass door that led to her balcony, she saw that the sun had finished setting while she had been talking to Momo, and the city was alight with romantic activity. Her blue eyes unconsciously lingered on the hotel room directly across from her apartment, but when she caught herself, she quickly tore her gaze away. What were the odds that he would even stay in the same room, she thought with a frown. There was no need to get herself all worked up over nothing.

Louie followed her into her bedroom as she made a beeline for the closet, discarding apron and slacks along the way. It was unseasonably warm this year, as opposed to the previous Valentine's Day, on which it had snowed a little. She picked out a long sleeved dress and some leggings to keep from being too exposed, then ran and took a quick shower. It wouldn't hurt to freshen up, she decided, in case she found herself a beau at the bar of the Mexican restaurant. She could do worse than a tall, dark and handsome Hispanic guy. Her mother would certainly approve.

By the time she was done and fully dressed, it was just about seven. But that was alright; she was entitled to being fashionably late. And besides, she reminded herself firmly, she wasn't expecting him to be there. This whole thing was silly. She'd had one nice Valentine's date, and she shouldn't hope for anything else. The universe might explode, trying to be nice to her.

Louie looked up at her hopefully as she emerged from the bathroom, his stub of a tail wagging furiously. Rangiku stooped over and gathered him into her arms, making her way to the laundry room where his dog bed was situated. "I won't be gone long," she told him, as he had sensed the inevitability of her departure and began to whine. "Don't cry, baby! I'll pick you up some treats if you're good." Really, she ought to have considered getting the poor dog a girlfriend instead.

With Louie put in his place, Rangiku left the apartment, traveling down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor of the building and making a mental note to check her mail when she came back. The desk attendant offered her a wave as she passed, probably wondering where she was headed. It was no secret that she never had a date on Valentine's Day, even among her neighbors, which was a little irritating to think about. Two years ago the old lady down the hall had tried to set her up with her grandson, who'd had an allergic reaction to her perfume and had swollen up like a balloon ten minutes into the date. One of the many tragedies in Rangiku's love life, she sighed.

The Mexican restaurant that the date had been scheduled at was on the very end of the block, and was run by a trio of siblings – two brothers and their little sister – who could never quite decide on what to call their dishes, and thus left it up to their customers to choose. Every time Rangiku walked in, there were three new options on the chalkboard next to the hostess station with pencils, paper and a jar for voting. She politely selected one and went to take a seat at the bar, ordering just one drink. _Just one_. She couldn't get drunk, in the event that she'd have to take herself to the aquarium and report what she saw to Shinji the next day.

With a bottle in hand, Rangiku glanced at her cell phone screen. It was seven twenty. Damn it, she should've known. She glared up at the television above her head, which was showing an NBA game. This shouldn't have been so disappointing. She'd told herself not to hope for anything, but who could ever accurately keep themselves from feeling?

All around her were people paired off for the evening, or in the process of doing so, flirting over their drinks and appetizers. Rangiku considered getting something for herself. She'd order the biggest plate of sizzling fajitas on the menu, load them up with steak and rice and guacamole and stuff her face, shooting dirty looks at whoever dared to poke fun at her large, food-filled cheeks.

Someone fell onto the bar stool next to hers. "Phew! Thank goodness you're still here. Sorry I was so late; the meeting ran longer than I thought it would, and trust me when I say I ran like hell to make it over here in time to catch ya."

Rangiku's eyes widened. She almost didn't want to turn around, because she knew that she would feel incredibly bad for her pessimism, but her head moved on its own. Sure enough, sitting to her right was the silver-haired businessman, the Cheshire Cat of her last Valentine's Day, motioning to the bartender to fetch him a drink. "It… it's you!" she squawked, completely giving away her doubt.

He grinned, not bothered in the slightest. "Indeed it is." His white button-up looked like it had been slept in, his striped tie slightly askew, and there was fresh mud on the button of his pant legs. "Good to see you out of the tower, Princess," he said amiably. "Any princes come along to slay the dragon keeping you trapped up there?"

Rangiku was still too stunned to speak. He had actually shown up, a whole year later. "None but yourself," she eventually muttered, her eyes wide with amazement. Was she dreaming? No, this couldn't have been a dream; the bartender saw him, too, and even brought him a bottled beer. And had it been a dream, the very shock of seeing him again might have jolted her awake. But she discreetly pinched her thigh, just to be sure. When nothing changed, she finally allowed herself to smile. "So, uh, how was your year?"

"Mine?" He took a sip of his drink and set the bottle down. "It was about as decent as all of my years go. Been to some of the same places, some new places, and made more money than a guy who doesn't pay rent knows what to do with." The Spurs scored another three points on the television. "And yours?"

Rangiku tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He'd been vague, so she would be just as informative. "Oh, you know. A lot of heads to scrub, nails to paint, and bills to keep up with."

"Sounds painful," he told her, then sat up straighter. "Now, I've been thinkin' on the way here; this bein' our second date, I feel like it wouldn't be fair havin' ya call me by a nickname." He held his hand out to her. "Gin Ichimaru, at your service."

She shook the offered hand. "Rangiku Matsumoto," she answered, unable to help noticing how warm his fingers were, perhaps from running all the way to the restaurant. "Thanks for not standing me up, Gin."

"Heh, I should be the one thankin' you."

…

Gin Ichimaru was five years older than Rangiku, but he swore that mentally, he hadn't aged a day past ten. He was fond of playing pranks on random people wherever he went, which had made him infamous among the people of his company. Apparently, his job was to swoop into the other branches unannounced and "catch people with their pants down," so to speak, writing up unsavory reports on whoever wasn't doing their work correctly. The pranks that he wreaked havoc with along the way were just bonus material. Needless to say, he wasn't very well liked, but whether or not that affected him, Rangiku couldn't tell. He was _always _smiling.

"So that thing about them having signs on the road telling people to look the other way first is true?" Rangiku asked around a mouthful of nachos.

"Sure is," Gin said as he dipped one of his own into the provided salsa. "It's always kind of a culture shock, comin' back to this country. My mother suffers from the same thing, though. She's always going on cruises and stuff – I get my wanderlust from her – and forgets which side of the road to drive on sometimes. Then Dad calls and complains that she got into another accident and, whoops, there goes the insurance."

Rangiku laughed. "Your parents sound interesting."

"Yeah? What do yours do?"

"Oh, I think these days they sit around drinking wine and enjoying the smell of their own farts." She made a face and reached for another nacho. "They're _those _kinds of people."

Gin pointed a nacho at her. "And what kind of person are you?"

"Me?" Rangiku blinked, not sure how to go about answering that question. She didn't know what kind of person she was. She'd never had to think about it. "I guess I'm the kind of person who owns a small dog." His smile widened, and he motioned for her to go on. "His name's Louie. He's a miniature schnauzer, four years old, cute as a button, a bit of a brat. In his puppy days he had a bad habit of chewing up the couch cushions, then throwing up stuffing. I got him a chew toy in the hopes that he'd leave the throw pillows alone, but he ate it." Gin burst out laughing and she felt her cheeks heating up. "He's a lot smarter than he sounds!" she added.

He held up his hand. "Oh, that's nothin'. When I was in middle school we had a dalmation named Liver, 'cause it was his favorite food, y'see. But he'd eat just about anythin'. Once I had to stay home watchin' him 'cause he'd devoured a portion of the lawn sprinkler and, well, what goes up, must come down."

"There's no way that your dog ate a lawn sprinkler."

"Part of one," Gin reminded her.

"Didn't you feed the poor creature?"

"I did! He had a full bowl of dry dog food right there, but no. Just had to go for the sprinkler. Maybe it looked more appetizing? I don't know. I was one of those weird kids who wanted to try dog food with milk 'cause it reminded me of cereal, so I was a little put out with him for ignorin' his meal." Gin stuck a nacho between his teeth. "You're lucky you don't have to worry about lawn sprinklers in your building."

Rangiku's eyebrow arched, a playful smile bringing her full lips upwards. "I think Louie's smart enough to differentiate between food and gardening tools these days."

"You _think_, but you aren't sure."

"No, I'm about a hundred percent sure."

…

With a late dinner out of the way, they took a stroll around the city block, arm-in-arm, merging into the Valentine's Day crowd. For a while they stuck to safe topics again, like the weather and the Super Bowl, then Gin began entertaining her with off-the-wall questions. "If you had to choose between losing the ring finger of your left hand or the pinky toe of your left foot, which would you pick?"

Rangiku tapped her chin with her free hand. "Hmm… definitely my finger," she said decisively, "because they're pretty useless when you think about it. At least toes help you keep your balance."

Gin nodded once, considering his next question carefully. "Alright. So you're at the bank. But not just any bank! You'd been wantin' to open an account with this one for a while, havin' taken notice of the commercials on television advertisin' the cash back guarantee each time you use their card as credit. Sounded like a good deal, so now you're standin' in line, waitin' for your turn to talk to the nice teller up front. Then, all of a sudden, two men in nice suits wearing animal masks come in with AK-47s and hold the place up. You're scared for your life, hidin' under some furniture, and the pregnant woman who had been standing ahead of you has gone into labor from the stress so you have to help calm her down while the paramedics arrive. The robbers are nice guys, though, so they let you escort the pregnant woman outside, but they keep you at gunpoint and bring you back inside afterwards. Then one of 'em decides that he likes ya and makes you put the money in the bag for him, then moves in to kiss you on the cheek for bein' a doll when the police snipe him and his head explodes – literally _explodes_ – two inches from your face. You have nightmares for years to come. Now then," Gin looked down at her, "after all of that trauma, would you still open an account with that bank?"

Rangiku met his gaze seriously. "How much do I get back for each credit purchase?"

"Six percent."

"I'd do it for nine percent," she replied as they rounded the corner and continued down the block.

"Rangiku, you're an amazin' woman." Gin told her, looking quite satisfied with her answer. They walked on peacefully for a few seconds. "Quick! Off the top of your head: Publisher's Clearing House just showed up at your door to announce that you've won a million dollars, every year for the rest of your life. What's the first thing that you buy?"

"Chewing gum."

"You're tied to a railroad track with a speedin' locomotive headed your way. Who's the cowboy that comes to your rescue?"

"Wayne Brady."

"You've just found out that your entire life is a lie. Your parents aren't your real parents, you might have been kidnapped at birth, and there's a strong hint that you come from circus people. Do you go off in search of your family, or do you pretend you didn't learn anythin' and remain content with what you have?"

"If they're circus people, then I won't be able to sleep until I find out whether or not I'm related to the bearded lady." Rangiku shivered. "A girl's got to look out for her hairless face." She noticed that they were getting closer to his hotel and her apartment building and sighed a bit dejectedly. It was probably around midnight. Poor Louie would have a heart attack if she didn't get home soon. "What's with all the weird questions, anyway?" she asked, hoping to divert her attention elsewhere.

Gin shrugged happily. "It beats askin' what your favorite color is." He paused. "What _is _your favorite color?"

Rangiku flushed. "Pink."

"Haha! You're such a girl!"

"Shut up!" She pushed him away from her and crossed her arms, looking away to hide her smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked together, enjoying the cool night air. "So… where are you headed tomorrow?"

"New York, New York," Gin drawled. "Droppin' in on one of those guys who thinks he can get away with holdin' onto employee bonuses to keep his own paycheck nice and fat."

"Poor sap won't know what hit him," Rangiku muttered. They were in front of the hotel now, and Gin had stopped walking, though he seemed just as reluctant as she did to part. After a moment of silence, both started to say something at the same time, then chuckled and gestured for the other to go first. Gin relented.

"So, uh, supposin' you don't have a date next year…"

"I'd love to," Rangiku answered before he could complete his thought, and found his relieved smile totally endearing.

"Same time, same meeting place?" She nodded once, then blinked in surprise when he suddenly leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll bring you chocolates next time, and a picture of somethin' delightfully absurd," Gin said as he headed into the hotel.

"Like what?" Rangiku called after him.

He turned to face her, walking backwards. "I don't know! But I promise that it'll cause ya to look at me funny."

Rangiku waved as he disappeared through the lobby doors, then walked the remaining distance to her own building. Chocolates, huh? Well, she did love chocolate. It was something to anticipate for their next date. She tried to keep from skipping across the ground floor on her way to the elevators, but couldn't help the cheerful humming that started up in her throat as she ascended, fishing her keys out of her purse.

The moment she opened the door to her apartment, Louie began barking from his place in the laundry room. Rangiku pulled her boots off and ran quickly to let him out. The overjoyed dog wiggled at her feet, throwing itself onto its back in desperation for a belly rub. "Oh, you!" She gave him a thorough scratching before picking him up and dancing around the living room with the dog at arm's length. "Before you ask, his name is Gin, and he's an older man but there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. He's charming, funny and sweet – not to say that you aren't. Don't you dare give me that jealous look! You know you're number one in my life!"

Louie barked and whined to be put down, so Rangiku let him back onto the floor and continued her frolic. It was a good thing that Gin didn't have the same hotel room as last time, or else they both might have become witnesses to the other's celebration.

**To Be Continued**


	3. A Touch of Romance

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

**Beautiful Stranger**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**A Touch of Romance**

It was bad news, bad luck, the worst possible timing. Rangiku couldn't believe it herself when she heard, but even Shinji, who was usually all smiles, had sunken into his chair that fateful morning and remained slouched there until his first customer had come in. There had been an odd hush about the salon, save for the occasional beautician bursting into tears back in the break room. Obviously, someone had let the detail slip immaturely.

So when _had _they been planning on telling everyone that the salon was closing down?

Having worked there for several years, Rangiku hadn't taken the news very well. The fact that she would have to find a new job was nowhere near as distressing as the fact that this place, which had become like a second home to her, would be no more. Her friends would all be split up. Some even had plans to move to other cities, to start over in more exciting places. One of the veterans had been hired by Vogue, a huge honor among them.

But the salon… Rangiku had a hard time imagining where she would go next. There were plenty of other places to work in the city. It was the starting over aspect that made her nervous. She couldn't help but feel that it would be like moving in the middle of high school, of being the new kid on the block. She'd heard horror stories of beauticians getting bullied as initiation rites of sorts.

With Valentine's Day coming up, she decided that she would ask Gin for advice on how to deal with the awkward sensation. His drifter status must have made him a professional at such things.

The news had been let out in December. The salon wouldn't close until the next spring. It was plenty of time to line up interviews at other places, hopefully ones close to her apartment. Rangiku wasn't quite ready to give up her ability to walk to work. As she contemplated this on the morning of February thirteenth, sighing wistfully as she painted highlights into a teenager's hair, Shinji came ambling up to her, looking distracted; they all seemed to be wandering about in a daze lately. "Are you half as depressed as I am?" he asked, observing her work.

"I'm trying not to think about it," Rangiku muttered, caking a thick strand in chemicals and wrinkling her nose at the smell. "If your scalp starts burning at any time, let me know."

"Is this stuff dangerous?" the teenager asked nervously.

Shinji clapped Rangiku on the shoulder. "Sad thoughts aside, though, for real. Do you have a Valentine's date this year?"

The strawberry blond smiled mischievously. "Maybe." When she wasn't worrying about the salon, she spent her time daydreaming, which her best friend had not failed to notice. He suspected that she might have been seeing someone, but the truth was probably the farthest thing from his mind. Ah, if only he'd known! Rangiku saw his eyebrow shoot up through the mirror, and playfully avoided elaborating. Unfortunately he wouldn't let her go so easily.

"Well?" Shinji crossed his arms. "Who is it?"

Rangiku dipped her brush in hair dye. "I'll tell you… _after_ you propose to Hiyori."

Shinji's cheeks colored. "T-That isn't fair!" he cried. "You know I've been having trouble finding the right moment to do so."

"Then I suppose I've got trouble remembering the details of my date," Rangiku said, though it was far from the truth. She'd found herself thinking of the silver-haired businessman a lot throughout the year. On slow days in the salon, she would catch her mind pondering what he was up to, where in the country he might have been… and admittedly, what other types of women he might have been wooing.

She shook her head clear of that notion and focused on the task at hand while Shinji grumbled under his breath. "Do you think I should do it tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "I have this paranoid fear that she'd shoot me down because it's Valentine's Day, and a proposal would be dramatic, over-the-top and cliché."

"Oh Shinji, don't you know that all women are secretly nuts over that stuff?" Rangiku put the brush down and used the towel around the teenager's neck to dab at a smear of color she'd gotten on her ear. "I doubt that she'll say no just because you ask tomorrow. I mean, it's just another day, right?" She picked up the brush again. "Besides, she'll probably be too speechless over the sight of the diamond on that ring to worry about what day it is."

Shinji laughed a bit sheepishly. "You think so?"

Rangiku looked down at the teenager. "Alright sweetie, I know you're still young, but imagine that your boyfriend asks you out on Valentine's Day. You say yes, of course, and he takes you to this classy, waterfront restaurant at the edge of the city. Super romantic backdrop, delicious dinner, live music and all that jazz. Then halfway through, he drops down on his knee and produces a ring sporting a diamond the size of your fingernail. Would you say no, just because it's cliché?"

The teenager glanced down at her fingernails, then up at Shinji through the mirror. "I think your chances are good."

He sighed as his name was called over the PA system. "Fine, I'll do it. But if she says no, it's on both of your heads."

Rangiku laughed, watching him saunter off to attend to his appointment. "He'll be fine," she said to the girl on the chair. "Now then, let's get you finished up here."

…

Louie the Schnauzer went absolutely nuts the next day when his doting mother brought home a squeaking toy in the shape of some furry mammal, which she couldn't tell was a raccoon or a badger. Whatever the case, it kept the tiny dog occupied for hours; wherever she was in the apartment, she could hear the toy, which must have been suffering. A glance in the noise's direction and she witnessed her precious pup brutally beating the raccoon-badger against the carpeted floor.

It gave Rangiku all the time in the world to prepare for her date, however. She wanted to dress as nicely as possible while still allowing for mobility. The weather was promising snow, so there was no way that she'd be running around the city in a dress. A classy, long-sleeved top, a pair of flattering jeans, her nicest fur-lined boots, a long coat, a scarf, and a hat would do. She'd forego any big earrings, which would freeze in the cold climate and torture her ears.

She found that her nerves were a little bit frazzled as she smeared gloss on her lips. Would Gin have changed somehow? Would he think that she had changed? Her hair was a little shorter, and she had turned twenty-four in September, but other than that she thought she looked the same – more mature, perhaps.

Louie walked into her bathroom, dropping the toy on the floor at her feet. Rangiku laughed and picked it up, antagonizing him with it. He barked at the raccoon-badger, which she made run along the floor, squeaking offensively. Then she bat at Louie's snout with the toy's arms, causing his yips to reach hysterical pitches. "You want it?" She hid it behind her back and gasped. "Where did it go?" The little dog hopped from side to side excitedly. Rangiku brought the toy back out and threw it Louie's way. He wasted no time in attacking it.

A fond smile lit her features. Perhaps if she worked at a higher paying salon, she could afford a playmate for Louie. She hated leaving him alone in the apartment, knowing how lonely he would get without her. Then another thought crossed her mind, and she watched him gnaw at the raccoon-badger's neck. "Hey Louie, would you be mad at me if I were to get a boyfriend?"

_Squeak-eek-eek-eek! _replied the toy amidst Louie's agitated growls. He thoroughly beat the stuffing out of it before dropping it at Rangiku's feet again, his stub of a tail going a million miles per hour. "I'll take that as a no and hope for the best," she said, then pet the dog straight into nirvana.

After making sure that he would be entertained enough to not miss her much, Rangiku left the apartment, heading downstairs with a spring in her step. Amazing how one's outlook could change so drastically when they had a date on Valentine's Day. She tucked her scarf securely around her neck, then stepped out into the cold night, immediately feeling the cold bite her nose and cheeks. It was a surprise that the snow hadn't started yet; she could see the puffy clouds illuminated by the city lights overhead.

The Mexican restaurant at the corner of the block was crowded with couples seeking to escape the frigid weather. Rangiku immediately sought out the chalkboard on which three potential entrée names were written. _Las Noches Nachos, Desert Trio Delight, The Best Damn Nachos You've Ever Tasted_. She chewed her bottom lip, having a hard time with this one. Option number three was begging for her vote, but option one was so much fun to say.

There was also live entertainment tonight, apparently. A black-haired boy with a completely flat expression sat playing a guitar while an animated redheaded girl sang, wiggling in what Rangiku could only guess was some kind of an interpretive dance. The three restaurant managers were swaying along as well.

"They ain't half bad," said a voice from behind Rangiku.

"No, they aren't… oh!" She turned around, surprised to find a bundle of flowers under her nose. Looking up over the colorful bouquet, she matched Gin Ichimaru's grin with one of her own. "Are these for me?"

"Nah, they're for my date." He lightly tapped her forehead with them. "I can't be sure, since it's been a whole year since I've seen her, but she reminds me a lot of you."

Rangiku rolled her eyes and took the bouquet, feeling her cheeks grow warm. He'd taken the time to bring her live flowers in this weather? It was a shame that they probably wouldn't last very long; they were gorgeous. Giving him a quick once-over, she noticed that he was finally wearing a coat, and under that was a black turtleneck. His hands were covered by expensive-looking leather gloves. "Did you pick up that sarcasm overseas?"

Gin shook his head. "No, but I _did _get this!" He produced a sleek smart phone from his pocket, unlocked the screen, and began searching through his pictures until he found what he was looking for. Holding it out to her, Rangiku couldn't hold in the loud laugh that escaped her at the sight. It was a photo of him, sitting atop a saddle on the back of a giraffe, both him and the animal staring at the cameraman with identical, confused expressions. "One delightfully absurd picture, as promised."

"Where in the world did you have to go to take this?" Rangiku asked, wishing that she could have an experience as exciting as riding a giraffe.

Gin withdrew the phone and put it back in his pocket. "Nowhere far. It was some sketchy pettin' zoo in Idaho," he confessed, eyeing the performers on stage with something of a cringe. "Well, I'm sad to say that I didn't have time to pick up the chocolates I promised you."

"But you had time to get flowers?"

"The flower shop was on the way here! Besides, you like them, don't ya?" He looked down at her for confirmation of this, and she ducked her head, smirking. Satisfied, he went on. "They fed me quite well at the conference today, so I'm not all that hungry."

"Psh, neither am I," Rangiku felt excitement bubbling in her tummy, determined to get out into the night. "But I do have the munchies."

"Hmm… like, _popcorn _munchies?"

"Exactly."

And so the two left the restaurant, though they swung by Rangiku's apartment complex so that she could put the flowers in a vase. Leaving Gin downstairs in the lobby – he refused to go upstairs with her, as he was still worried about making the wrong impression – she ascended quickly, passing her pet-sitter Momo on the way. The girl looked pretty well dressed herself in a peacoat, leggings and boots. "Hey! Where are you headed?" Rangiku asked her.

Her cheeks colored. "Err… nowhere in particular," she stammered, the two of them walking backwards to maintain the conversation.

Rangiku thrust a hand onto her hip. "Don't lie to me! You've got a date, don't you?"

"Well, so do you!" Momo pointed at the flowers accusingly. "And we all know that you _never _have dates on Valentine's Day, so what gives? Who is the guy, huh?"

"Girl, I'll tell you later! Get out of here, before you're late!" She turned without another word, jogging to her apartment and laughing all the way. When she got into the living room, Louie looked up at her with mild disinterest, having been nibbling on the raccoon-badger's ear. "Don't eat that thing, baby. It's bad for you." Rangiku warned him. He followed her into the kitchen, where she began to fret over what she could possibly use as a vase, realizing a little too late that she didn't actually own one. Finally she settled on a glass pitcher that she used for lemonade, filling it with water and setting it down on the counter. The flowers were swiftly placed inside.

Rangiku turned the pitcher to the side until she found a nice angle for the bouquet. Louie barked at the flowers in confusion. "Relax, sweetie. Don't they smell nice?" She stooped over, lifted him up and held him out so that he could get a sniff. His wet nose twitched over the bouquet repeatedly, then he began wriggling in the hopes to be let down. "Fine! Don't cuddle with mommy!" Rangiku put him on the floor and sent him on his way. "I'll be back later. You give that poor creature some breathing space, alright?"

Louie didn't seem to listen as he attacked the raccoon-badger again, carrying it off into another room, the toy squeaking with every bound. Rangiku half-worried that she would return and find stuffing everywhere, but told herself that Louie was smarter than that, having conquered his obsession with the couch cushions several years before. So she went back downstairs, to where Gin sat in the lobby, looking quite content to be twiddling his thumbs. He smiled at her. "How's your dog doin'?"

"As fine and scatter-brained as he's ever been," Rangiku replied as he stood from the chair that he had been occupying. Looping her arm through his, she leaned on him a bit as they went back out the building's front doors, joining the Valentine's crowd. "Now then, the nearest theater is two blocks down, but it isn't a big one or anything. They're usually playing horrible foreign films when I walk by."

Gin thought it over. "But they've got popcorn, right?"

"They do,"

"Then that's where we're going!" he said cheerfully, and they went on their merry way.

While Gin hadn't gotten his sarcasm or his giraffe pictures overseas, he had been to London in April, where he'd adopted a flawless British accent to trick the company he was visiting into thinking that he _wasn't_ the American investigator they'd been warned about. It had been a success, and by the end of his stay there he'd gotten more than enough people into a mess of trouble. He claimed that it did his heart good to bring criminals to justice; he slept better at night when rotten people were fired thanks to his reports. "Makes the world a better place," he told her as they crossed a busy street.

"I'm sure," Rangiku agreed, not wanting to tell him about the salon just yet. She was trying to enjoy her date. It wouldn't be fair to bring up such a depressing topic.

True to form, when they arrived at the small theater two blocks down from the apartment building, the only two options were an Italian comedy film from the 1960s and an independent Russian film about ballerinas. They decided on the first, then ran to get a large bag of popcorn before the movie started. Rangiku's mouth watered as the smell of butter invaded her nostrils. There was something about the atmosphere of the theater that made the popcorn taste so much better than a bag popped at home. She grabbed a handful of it the moment the bag was placed on the counter in front of them.

Gin paid for the popcorn, then carried it for her as they made their way to the appointed screening room. "Did you know," he said suddenly, "that small theaters like this one catered to the drunks in the prohibition era?" He made a show of knocking on the wall beside them. "Usually around here somewhere they would have hidden theaters where they would serve alcohol to those who were willing to pay."

"Really?"

"Shoot, I don't know. But wouldn't that be exciting?"

Rangiku laughed out loud. "You could convince anyone with that self-assured tone of voice, you know."

"What? No way. I couldn't convince my ex to stay with me, nor could I convince my mother that smoking marijuana was illegal."

"Your mom smokes weed?"

"She tried it once, in public, and got arrested for possession." Gin shook his head sadly. "Had to bail her out with my savings. This was back in my college days, mind ya. I ate scraps for a good week, then had to get a job in an effort not to starve, which led to me doin' horribly in my classes." He held the popcorn in the crook of his arm and removed his gloves as they entered the screening room. "I was one of those who needed a ton of study time."

"Not me," Rangiku loosened her scarf; it was rather warm in the theater with the heater going full blast. "Then again, I actually paid attention during lectures."

Gin laughed sheepishly. "I suppose that's where you and I differ, then."

There were a handful of other people sitting at odd intervals throughout the room. Gin and Rangiku situated themselves near the back, avoiding the last row to get a decent view of the movie and avoid a couple of teenagers that would probably start sucking face the moment the film started. Rangiku stole the popcorn from Gin, shoveling a handful into her mouth and blushing when she noticed him watching her with an amused smile. She was surprised to find that his eyes were blue, something that she had failed to really notice on their last date.

It was weird, how comfortable she felt around him, considering the fact that they'd only been on two dates before. While she was mindful of basic etiquette – she wouldn't let loose a belch in front of him, for example – she wasn't worried about making a bad impression. It was almost as if they were old friends, despite the five year age gap. Which reminded her… "You're pushing thirty, aren't you?" she asked out of the blue.

Gin sank into his seat. "Thanks for reminding me."

"That isn't a bad thing," Rangiku held the popcorn out to him. "I hear that thirty's the new twenty."

He grabbed a decent amount. "Those are just rumors. I'm never going to get my youthful stamina back." Gin lamented, lifting his free hand for her to look at. "Check out these knobby fingers. I can feel arthritis settlin' in already. Is it going to snow? My joints are achin'."

Rangiku giggled. "Come on, you're not _that _old."

He stared at the popcorn ruefully. "I bet I'm one of these away from a heart attack. My arteries are cloggin' as we speak!"

"You know what? Forget I said anything."

The movie followed a strange plot: an aristocratic Sicilian man was devising ways to get his wife to cheat on him, so that he could murder her to avenge his honor and then marry his teenaged cousin, with whom he had already shared a passionate night. Gin and Rangiku watched in silent horror as the wife's ex-boyfriend came back into the picture and started trying to woo her and the maid at the same time. They didn't notice that their hands were reaching for the popcorn at the same time until Gin's long fingers brushed against Rangiku's. She drew her hand back shyly, pressing her lips together to contain a smile. He didn't seem to mind at all.

By the time the movie ended, she was feeling a great deal of giddy, like a school girl on her first date. It was barely eleven o'clock; there were still two hours left before the city's outdoor skating rink shut down for the night, and so she suggested it, hoping to use up some of her extra energy. "They've got skates for people to rent down there, in case you were worried."

"Alright, but I'll warn ya now: I'm not exactly the most graceful person on ice," Gin said to her as she flagged down a taxi.

"Neither am I!" Rangiku spoke truthfully. The last time she had tried ice skating, she'd gone home with a sprained wrist and a bruised backside. Hopefully she would be able to rely on her balance tonight. She didn't much feel like embarrassing herself more than necessary.

…

The rink was fairly populated with singles and lovers alike. Located near a large shopping mall, it had been decorated with hearts and cupids for the sake of the holiday, and the skinny trees that surrounded the large oval of ice were strung up with softly glowing lights. Rangiku exchanged her boots for skates and made her cautious way onto the slippery surface of the rink, her arms out at her sides for balance as she gradually gained speed. Gin followed, not quite as nervous, but less than professional. "You know, I've been passin' through this city for the last five years and had no idea that this rink existed," he told her, staying close behind in case she decided to fall.

"Really? It's the biggest attraction of the winter," Rangiku concentrated very hard on turning, "but I guess it's one of those things that the locals keep a secret, huh?" She wobbled a bit and Gin put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Thanks."

"No problem!" He skated along beside her, keeping her snail's pace. "So, you haven't said much about the salon tonight. How's work going?"

This time Rangiku _did _fall, her skate flying out from under her and snapping up at an angle she didn't know her leg capable of achieving. She landed on her rear, quickly clenching her hands into fists to avoid having any of her fingers skated over. "Oww!" she cried, rubbing her butt with a cringe. A gloved hand appeared in front of her face and she accepted the help gratefully, though she almost took Gin down with her as he pulled her back onto her feet. "Funny you should mention that," she muttered glumly.

He tilted his head to get a better look at her. "What's up?"

Rangiku sighed, not aware of the fact that she was still holding onto his hand as he began leading her across the ice. "The salon's shutting down." And despite the fact that she'd been trying so hard to have fun, she felt her sinuses prickling with hot tears that she quickly blinked back. "I don't know when they were planning on telling us. Someone overheard and let it slip." She made an effort to smile. "I mean, it's not the end of the world. I've got plenty of time to find a new job, it's just…"

"You get attached," Gin filled in for her, "to the place and the people alike."

"Exactly." Her gaze lowered to the toes of her skates. "So I was going to ask you for advice, on being the new kid and whatnot, seeing as you've got experience in that department."

He was quiet a moment, lost in thought. "There ain't much to it," he turned around to face her, carefully skating backwards. "It's actually a lot like what we're doin' now. You start off slow, unsteady on your feet, but if you keep your head held high and don't care that people might be smirkin' at ya 'cause you don't have the hang of it yet, you'll be fine." He shrugged. "You're bound to get adjusted eventually. Don't get me wrong, though, you're guaranteed to fall once or twice, as you so beautifully demonstrated."

Rangiku frowned and tried to pull her hand away from his, but he brought her closer, taking her other one as well. "Hey! It's a joke," Gin grinned at her. "But listen, the falls don't matter. That's how ya learn the ropes. And if you're lucky," he brought them to a stop, the wind from the surrounding buildings pushing them along regardless, "you'll soon have someone who'll be willing to help ya stand."

A snowflake landed on Rangiku's nose, surprising both of them. Gazing up at the sky above them, they could make out a number of fluffy flakes descending from the thick clouds overhead, and all around them people stopped to exclaim that it had begun to snow. "It's about time," Rangiku said, shuffling a bit closer to Gin.

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, letting go of one of her hands to tilt her chin up to meet him. It was a soft and warm kiss, a gentle pressure against Rangiku's lips that sent a shot of joy from her head to the tips of her toes. It lasted only a few seconds, but that was all that she needed: that perfect moment under the falling snow, their clouded breaths mingling as they drew back with smiles, and the way his gloved fingers laced through hers as they continued to skate amidst the glow of the lights.

…

"They're sending you to New York again?"

"Yup," Gin drawled as they made their way back to Rangiku's apartment complex under a heavy snowfall at close to two in the morning. "You'd think that they would have learned after the first time, but apparently not. Oh well! That just means that I'll get some of them gourmet waffles while I'm there." A dreamy, hungry sort of expression crossed his face.

Rangiku tried to picture having gourmet waffles in New York City, but the closest she got were the blueberry multigrain Eggos in her freezer. She sighed and tried to focus on something else, like the fact that their hands were still intertwined. "It's a shame that you have to leave so soon," she found herself saying.

Gin nodded his agreement. "A darn shame. It's too bad you don't have some way of communicatin' with me when I'm gone. You know, like some kind of wireless telephone that you can take with ya wherever and, I don't know… use to call me on a whim." He gave Rangiku a pointed look and she broke out into a sunny smile. Without even having to ask, he held out his free hand, and she placed her cell phone onto his palm. "Whoa, what's this?" he exclaimed in mock fascination. "It's got a little keyboard and everythin'! Think it can send text messages?"

"I think it was built to send text messages." Rangiku answered as he began to punch in a number. When he handed the phone back to her, she was surprised to find it calling someone, until she heard a chirp from somewhere on Gin and he retrieved his own phone, answering the call. She lifted hers to her ear. "Hello?"

"Is this Rangiku Matsumoto?" he asked.

"That's what it says on my birth certificate."

"Oh, good! It's Gin Ichimaru!" He stopped walking, as they had unfortunately reached the front of her apartment complex. "I thought I might have gotten a wrong number, even though you were the one callin' me. Anyway, I wanted to ask you a question, Ms. Matsumoto."

Rangiku had yet to let go of his hand. "And what question might that be?"

He sighed into the phone. "Do you have a date for Valentine's Day next year?"

Her smile grew impossibly wide. "Hold on, I'll have to check," she said airily, "I'm a very popular woman, you know."

"I do know, but there's no harm in askin'."

She pretended to busy herself, humming a brief tune, then dragged the phone across her jacket as if she had just picked it up. "Still there?"

"Sure am."

"Well, you seem to be in luck, Mr. Ichimaru. I'm totally free between the hours of seven and midnight on Valentine's Day next year. Shall I pencil you in?"

Gin ended the call and turned to face her. "Is that hair stylist humor?" he asked, dropping his phone into his coat pocket.

"My attempt at it, yes," Rangiku gazed up at him, feeling twice as reluctant to let him leave, but knowing that she had to. And besides, she had his phone number now. She wouldn't have to wonder what he was up to, she could just ask. The thought did a bit to soothe the sadness. She'd also have someone to talk her through the process of finding another job, and physical evidence of her date for Shinji, who would probably come up to her the next day, newly engaged and demanding to know who she had gone out with.

"I appreciate the effort on my behalf," Gin slowly untangled his fingers from hers. Neither of them spoke. Then Rangiku took a deep breath and decided not to let it get to her. The next year was going to fly by, especially with the added means of communication. Still, it was rather flattering, how dejected he appeared to be.

"Don't look so depressed! You're supposed to say something silly so that I can walk away laughing."

Gin thought it over. "Two guys walk into a bar," he began dramatically, "the third guy ducks."

They grinned at each other. "Thanks," Rangiku whispered before turning away from him, walking up the front steps that led into her building. Reaching up to wipe the snowflakes from her hair, she chanced a look over her shoulder and saw that he was still there, hands in his pockets, watching her. He made a texting motion with his fingers, and she nodded, then he went off in the direction of the hotel.

It wasn't until Rangiku got into her apartment that she allowed herself the kind of sigh that love-struck girls let out in the movies. What a night. She touched her lips gingerly, unable to stop smiling.

So she was kind of, sort of, _officially_ dating an older man.

How long was three hundred and sixty-five days again?

**To Be Continued**


	4. Distance

**Warning: **The title of this chapter can be taken literally and ironically. Also, a friendly public service announcement: Please visit and read an author's profile if you have any questions about their fics! They might be answered there.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

**Beautiful Stranger**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**Distance**

Rangiku and her coworkers were one sad month away from the closing of their salon, and yet, the twenty-five year old strawberry-blonde guiltily couldn't contain the happiness that burst through her skin, making her appear more radiant to her clients. She was the picture of youth and beauty, despite her paranoia over what looked suspiciously like lines forming at the corner of her eyes. Perhaps she was reading too much into things. Those lines were always there when she smiled, and these days, she smiled – or tried to – often. After all, Valentine's Day was finally upon them.

And this year, Rangiku had more than just a date. She had a _boyfriend_, a beau, a gentleman. She sighed blissfully as she thought back to the beginning of their communications: a single text with a simple message, echoing words reminiscent of their first meeting:

_Have a nice flight_, she had urged him.

_I won't_, Gin had replied, _I can't stand flying_.

This was followed, of course, by the customary exchange of good mornings, which they'd realized that they had forgotten. There was conversation regarding his hatred of airplanes, then a gap of a few hours as she'd gone to work and been scooped up into a tight hug by a newly engaged Shinji, and Gin had grappled with American Airlines. Shortly after lunch he had announced that he'd made it to New York, but just barely, as he'd been sandwiched between two heavyset men who apparently couldn't control the emission of gases from their large bodies.

_I want to take a shower_, the message after his explanation had read.

_I don't blame you_, she'd told him, amidst laughter at his expense.

In the days and months that had seemed to crawl sluggishly past, Gin had never failed to make her happy. He sent her a picture of a movie theater with the announcement _Fun With Dick_, the title of a Jim Carrey film gone awry. There was randomly a photo of a tabloid headline: **Chtulu VS The Loch Ness Monster: Battle of the Century… or Lovers of the Century**?And then, of course, there were the lovely pictures he sent her of places he'd gone: the top of the Seattle Space Needle, a vast vineyard in the Italian countryside, and then a picture of an older woman riding a mechanical bull – his mother, he'd explained, who wished her well.

But it wasn't just text messages, of course. There were phone calls whenever the time zone was convenient, or jet lag hadn't knocked Gin unconscious the moment he arrived at his destination. He would send her things, too; once upon a time he found a Book of Mormon in a motel room that was missing every other page. It had arrived in her mailbox in May, with a note telling her to have fun piecing together the entire story.

On her birthday, he'd sent her a stuffed wolf that he'd won at a carnival, alongside the chocolates that he'd promised her the previous Valentine's Day, and interestingly flavored dog treats for Louie. He'd apologized because he hadn't thought it was very much, but Rangiku had reassured him that both she and Louie had enjoyed their presents immensely.

It had been an amazing year, but there were days when Rangiku had been nodding off on the sofa watching television and suddenly imagined Gin in the apartment with her, leaning over to kiss her forehead as she drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the closest she got to that was Louie's wet nose probing her toes in the morning. She'd definitely been more wistful lately, wishing that she could trade Gin's ever-present calls and texts for his physical form. On her way to work she'd see couples walking down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, and feel a twinge of jealousy at their proximity.

At first she'd thought that she wouldn't mention it to Gin for fear of sounding clingy, but one night as they'd spoken on the phone, she let the feeling slip. To her surprise, his tone of voice had gone from its usual good-humor to a soft tone, in which he had stated, "_Look on the bright side: only one-hundred and fifteen days until we see each other again_."

The fact that he'd been counting down as well made her heart skip a beat. As she turned an older woman's straight blonde hair into a mass of neat curls, she outlined the night in her mind. Having been separated for so long, she and Gin had both decided that they should forego any outside entertainment, and so Rangiku had offered to make them dinner that evening. She'd spent the previous day obsessively cleaning her apartment and giving Louie a bath – the poor thing was terrified of the tub – to have everything as presentable as possible. Gin may have seen a little of her place from the distance of the hotel balcony, but he'd never actually been in it.

By now, Shinji was both married and well-informed; he cheerfully slung unwarranted advice at her throughout the day. "What you do…"

"Shinji,"

" …is you fork over hundreds of dollars for a truffle," the blonde man went on, leaning over the vacant chair next to the one in which Rangiku's client sat. "They're aphrodisiacs, you know. _Powerful _aphrodisiacs – not that you'd need it very much." He scrutinized her momentarily. "Nah, all you'd need is a low-cut top to get his mind just far enough into the gutter for you to drag him down into your palace of sewage."

"Shinji! I'm not trying to seduce him," Rangiku hissed, her cheeks burning. "God, not everything is about sex." He blinked at her as if he weren't quite sure what she was getting at. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, so we're adults, and we'll have the place to ourselves, and we've agreed that there's been some mutual missing going on."

Shinji grinned. "Uh-huh."

Rangiku hadn't thought that far. Her face remained flushed as she twisted the curling iron tightly. "Y-You think I should go out to Victoria's Secret?"

"Whoa! What a lucky guy!" Shinji turned a morose look to his reflection. "Hiyori won't step foot into a Victoria's Secret. Says their catalogs are soft-core porn magazines, that it's degrading to women like her." Then he sighed happily. "She's got nothing against Frederick's, though."

"Too much information," Rangiku warned him, noticing her client trying to hold back a smile at the conversation. She was a shy one, huh?

Shinji stood up straighter, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So when do I get to meet this Gin of yours, huh?" When she had told him the full story some months prior, he'd thrown a fit about feeling betrayed and hadn't let up whining about it for weeks. There had been an interrogation, of course – from both him and the college freshman Momo when she'd gone to drop Louie off the day after Valentine's – which had ended in him passionately declaring that he wouldn't trust one of his best friends to an older, shady business guy.

Rangiku's eyes narrowed. "Shinji, I swear to God if you interrupt my date tonight."

"I'll bring Hiyori, too," Shinji said ominously. "It'll be the cock-block of the century."

"Your bangs are uneven."

"You lying bitch!" he cried, but ducked closer to the mirror to make sure.

Satisfied that she had successfully distracted him, Rangiku resumed her work, her mind going at a frenzied pace. She'd had sex before, so it was nothing otherworldly to her, but it had been a long time since and it honestly hadn't crossed her mind. _Should _she be worried about it?

Well, she wouldn't put too much thought into the subject. _Que sera, sera_! She'd keep her focus on dinner… and what she was going to wear, of course.

…

Louie must have caught onto Rangiku's excitement, as he was acting rather puppyish for a dog that was getting on in age. He dragged his chew toy around, the raccoon-badger hardly recognizable for all the beatings it had taken, and would strike up a chorus of barks at nothing in particular until Rangiku, fully engaged in cooking, would abandon her work and go chasing after him to quiet him down.

When she finally caught the playful dog, she'd sat him on the sofa, her tone serious. "Now Louie, you know how I've been sort of long-distance dating this guy for a while?" He'd glanced at the television, preoccupied by a McDonalds commercial. "Right, well, he's coming over tonight, and I expect you to be on your best behavior. Please don't bark at him too much, or attack him. In fact, I would be quite happy if you just settled for sniffing his feet and whoring a little bit of attention."

Louie looked at her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Rangiku pointed at his nose and his ears perked up, then he licked the tip of her finger. "I mean it," she warned him. His tail began to wag at full speed. Obviously he hadn't been listening to a word she'd said.

With the apartment clean and dinner almost ready, Rangiku jumped into the shower, trying not to take Shinji's words into consideration as she prepared. There was no need to dress fancy; they weren't leaving the apartment. But she shouldn't look like a slob either. Hmm… it was fairly warm inside, as she liked to keep the temperature toasty during the winter. She could get away with one of those comfortable cotton dresses she had on reserve for the spring, and walk around barefoot for the sake of being casual. Yes, that would work. She'd leave her hair down for fear of looking too housewife-y.

Done in the bathroom, she ran out and inspected the sauce that she was making for the pasta she'd prepared. It looked like it could use a few more minutes. The noodles were more or less done. Louie parked himself in the kitchen, hoping for a scrap or two, following her movements with a pitiful gaze. Rangiku made him dance for a treat, which she dropped the moment the doorbell rang.

"Remember what I told you," she whispered to Louie, who crunched on his reward noisily, before scurrying into the living room. Smoothing down her dress and taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open… and found Momo standing in the hallway. "Momo?"

"Hey Ms. Matsumoto! You sure look gorgeous tonight," the black-haired girl complimented her sweetly before leaning over to the side. "Found this in the lobby," she announced, pulling a smiling Gin into view. "Figured he was yours by the physical description. Hope you don't mind!"

Gin shrugged helplessly. "I would have gotten lost without this nice young lady's guidance anyway."

Rangiku crossed her arms, putting her weight to one side. "Thanks Momo. I'll take it from here," she said, ignoring the gestures of the girl and the mouthed, '_He's totally cute!_' that she shot her behind his back before waving innocently at Gin and retreating down the hall. Leaving room for him to enter, Rangiku closed the door once he'd crossed into the living area, his blue eyes taking in the furnishings.

"So this is the inside of Rangiku's house," he mused as if he'd walked into an ancient, hidden temple.

Rangiku shrugged. "It's not much." She observed that he was wearing a coat again; the temperatures were slightly warmer than the previous year, but still cold enough to require breaking out the heavy duty winter wear, she supposed.

"I'd say it is. Takin' location into account, this place oughtta be fairly pricey," Gin turned to her, "which means that you're doin' well for yourself. I'm glad," he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her waist and touching his forehead to hers, "and there are no words to describe how good it is to see your lovely face again."

Rangiku felt the warmth of blood surging up her neck. "Gin…"

They were both startled by a quick succession of sharp barks that overpowered the actors speaking on the television. Louie stood in the kitchen entrance, his butt wiggling so hard that Rangiku was sure he'd pull a muscle. "Louie," she cooed, "come here, sweetie! You want to say hi?"

Gin let her go and stooped down as the small dog approached, barking twice before launching himself at his shoes. "So this is the baby I've heard so much about?" he held his hand out for Louie to sniff, then rubbed his ears affectionately.

"Not so much a baby anymore, but he likes to pretend," Rangiku watched as the two interacted, relieved that her dog wasn't throwing a jealous fit over the fact that there was another male in his territory. Maybe he'd realize it later and turn on Gin, but by then she'd have put him into the laundry room for the night. For now, the businessman picked the dog up as if he'd been doing it his whole life, cradling him like an infant.

"I feel for ya, Louie," Gin told the miniature Schnauzer, "If I were you, and got to be pampered by Rangiku every day, I wouldn't act my age either."

Rangiku threw her arms up in the air. "Thirty is _not _old!" she insisted, continuing a debate that they had carried on throughout the year. "You may have to watch what you eat, but you can still build a house with your bare hands."

"I can, but I ain't certified in architecture or construction, so I don't think they'd let me," Gin replied with a grin.

Louie began to squirm and Rangiku took him, letting him down onto the floor. "He loves the attention but he hates being held," she shook her head sadly, as if she had failed somewhere along the road of parenting, then headed into the kitchen. "Dinner should be ready soon. What should we do in the meantime?"

Gin came in after her, admiring the marble countertops. "You've got about a thousand movie channels," he suggested.

"You're just looking for an excuse to get cozy, aren't you?"

"Can ya blame me?" He peered over her shoulder at the sauce that she was stirring. "That smells delicious!"

Rangiku smiled. "Does it? This was the easiest dish I could think of making." Despite her nervousness, she felt something completely natural about Gin being there. The very casual way in which they could talk after having not seen each other for an entire year, falling into step beside each other as if the distance hadn't mattered…

"Well, I didn't bring anythin' to contribute to the meal, and for that I'm sorry. Seems like I'm always apologizin', doesn't it?" he added absently. "I _did _bring somethin', though."

Rangiku turned down the heat on the sauce and looked back at him. "You mean… like a present?"

"Maybe," Gin's expression turned mischievous. "You don't get it until later, though."

"Gin! You didn't have to buy me anything!" she cried.

"Sure I did! It's Valentine's Day," he reminded her, and she frowned at him as if to say that such details didn't matter in the slightest. "I'm not takin' it back, so you're just gonna have to live with it." He poked her forehead. "How about I find us a movie to watch? Got a preference?"

Rangiku thought it over. "No foreign films."

"Understood!" He left the kitchen with Louie at his heels, and Rangiku almost wished that she could have taken a picture of the two of them together to dispel any of Shinji's doubts. Anyone who was okay with Louie, and vice-versa, was more than okay with her.

…

Because the date was a casual affair, Gin and Rangiku took dinner on the sofa, with the dog snoring on the floor between them as a horror movie blonde grew one step closer to her demise. Gin had been snickering the entire time, apparently nowhere near as bothered by the suspense as Rangiku was. She didn't mind gore; it was the tension and the music that worried at her anxiety until –

The blonde shrieked, a dramatic chord blasted the speakers and a grotesque emerged from the shadows, causing Rangiku to jump. "Jesus Christ!" she yelled, and Gin burst into hysterics. Having been shoulder-to-shoulder with him, she now narrowed her eyes and inched to the left. "You jerk!"

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are!" He continued to laugh, putting a hand over his mouth.

Rangiku set her cleared plate to the side and got closer to him again, still pouting. The blond was apparently getting devoured by the grotesque on screen, legs first, and making a good deal of noise in the process. "You know, if you aren't careful, I'll turn Louie on you like that," Rangiku pointed to the monster. "He's a trained attack dog."

_Snoooore_, went Louie on the floor.

"I believe you," Gin responded with a completely straight face. He'd shed his coat due to the warmth of the apartment, but now reached for it, feeling along the inside. "Anyway, told ya I'd give this to you later, and I figure that since you're mad at me, now would be as good a time as any."

"I'm not mad," Rangiku puffed out her cheeks.

He drew back, holding something out of her line of sight. "Close your eyes," he instructed, and she obeyed. "Hold out your hands." Rangiku did so. "And promise that you won't kill me for splurgin', 'cause I saw this in the store window and couldn't possibly let it go."

She began to feel a little nervous. "I promise." Something light settled onto her palms and she opened her eyes, staring down at the long blue box that he'd placed there. The name written across the top made her jaw drop. _Tiffany and Co. _"Oh my…"

"You promised," Gin reminded her.

"I-I… but it's – and you – and the… I can't accept this!" Rangiku squeaked.

"You haven't even opened it yet!" Gin motioned for her to do so. "Go on, you'll like it. I promise."

Rangiku thought she was about to faint, but did as she was told. Her fingers caught the edge of the lid and she lifted it off of the box, peering down as if she were terrified of what she would find… then gasping as the silver necklace inside caught the light from the television. It had a rather simple design to it: a thin chain slipping through a silver ring, and a smaller chain dangling down from the bottom of the round pendant. "Oh Gin," she whispered, reaching out to take a hold of it, then stopping herself, too afraid to touch it. "I definitely can't accept this," she said without conviction.

"Sure ya can," Gin took the box and carefully extracted the necklace. "Here, turn around. I'll put it on ya."

Rangiku did, her heart going a thousand miles per hour as she moved her hair out of the way, feeling the cool chain touch her skin, the pendant resting just above her heart. Once Gin's hands had withdrawn, she let her hair down and turned to him again. "How does it look?" she asked timidly.

He caressed her cheek, his icy blue eyes catching hers. "Beautiful."

The movie completely forgotten, Rangiku moved closer as Gin kissed her, his fingers sweeping her hair away from her face. It was short, tentative, a polite announcement of his intentions. She didn't mind. Her eyes drifted shut as their lips brushed again, and then met more firmly, the suspenseful music building in the background. Her hands came up to his chest, but didn't push him away. She'd missed him. The distance had been painful. She didn't want him to leave. Was that selfish of her?

Gin's fingers pulled through her wavy tresses, the kiss deepening as actors continued to die gruesome, fake deaths behind them. Then he drew back, glancing over the edge of the sofa at the sleeping Schnauzer. "He won't get too lonely, will he?"

"Nah," Rangiku took Gin's hand and tugged him to his feet. "He's a big boy. He'll probably just wake up and wander to his bed in a little while."

He kissed her again, with a passion that turned her legs into pudding. "Fair enough," he murmured, his arms securing her waist and bringing her closer. Rangiku clutched at his back, taking a step in the direction of the hallway. No way was she going to do this out in the living room. Gin seemed to catch on and grinned, nuzzling her neck before following her into the darkness.

It was a good thing she didn't have work the next day.

…

She'd left bruises on his shoulder, she noticed with an embarrassed flush a few hours later. Oh well. It was nothing that the collar of his coat wouldn't hide.

The room was just barely starting to the turn blue with the first light of sunrise, and she smiled as she felt him stroke her hair, closing her eyes momentarily and pressing her forehead into his chest. "You okay?" he asked quietly, as if reluctant to disturb the peace of the morning.

Rangiku nodded, twisting the silver chain of her new necklace – the only thing that had stayed on throughout the night – around her index finger. "I'm fine," she said, her gaze fixed on his pale skin, "just wishing that you didn't have to leave."

His hand paused in its ministrations very briefly, and then continued. From her position, she couldn't see the look of regret that flashed across his face, darkening his expression, eclipsing his joy.

…

Gin's flight was in the late afternoon for once, which gave them plenty of time to enjoy breakfast at a café down the block. Rangiku's attitude was as sunny as the blue sky above, and not just because she'd gotten laid, either. She recalled the night before, in which Gin had put the brakes on their actions to tell her, quite seriously, that he loved her. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she loved him in return, but it had caught her off guard nonetheless.

"_I'm not makin' this up,_" Gin had whispered to her, looking anxious to get his point across, "_I've been rather miserable this past year, waitin' to see you again. How'd ya manage to get me wrapped around your finger, huh?_"

Rangiku's only response had been to kiss him. What a guy. Didn't he know that the feeling was mutual?

They sat by the café's wall of windows, staring out at the sunny morning. Couples walked by in post-Valentine's bliss, their eyes all aglow with romance, completely engrossed in each other. Perhaps it was this should-be happy air that made Rangiku feel that something was off-kilter. Something had changed. She wasn't sure what, but she could see it in the way that Gin was allowing his coffee to grow cold in hand.

Picking up her own drink, Rangiku decided to step out onto the ice. "You're looking awfully distracted," she noted, peering at him over the rim of her cup.

Gin took a sip of his coffee, made a face, and put it to the side. "I guess you could say that."

She skated slowly ahead. "Depressed about leaving already? Come on, we've got a few hours. We can still do something fun."

His gaze separated itself from the outside world, the piercing blue settling on her. There it was again, that paranoid feeling that whatever had driven them into each other's arms, the icy pond on which she figuratively skated, was about to give. Rangiku held onto her cup a bit tighter. "Listen, Ran, I've been thinkin'…" he looked away from her, his shoulders stooped.

"Uh-huh."

Gin took a deep breath. She wondered if this was the position that he assumed when he fired someone. "This long distance thing, it ain't gonna work."

Ouch. Rangiku stared at him patiently, smothering the urge to throw her coffee into his face. "Go on."

He ran a hand through his silver hair. "I know this sounds really, _really _bad, but trust me, it's not like that." He gave her a beseeching look. "It's just that nothin' good's gonna come of you datin' me." For a moment, she thought that he would try to take her hand, but he kept his own subdued. "When you said that you wished I didn't have to go, it got to me, Rangiku… because I _do _have to go, and I'm just gonna have to keep on leavin' ya." His gaze lowered. "My ex was fortunate enough to realize that and walk away, but she wasn't lucky enough to avoid gettin' hurt, and for that I apologized to her more times than I could count. She moved on, she was happy, but I wasn't."

Rangiku's back stiffened. "I wouldn't walk out on you, Gin."

"I know that. I'm not sayin' that you would," Gin straightened in his chair. "I'm sayin' that you should." There was a profound silence between them, in which Rangiku heard the ice crack beneath her feet. "You're a wonderful woman, Rangiku. Charmin', funny, beautiful, driven and sweet, and I really care about you – perhaps more than I've ever cared about anyone." He couldn't bring himself to look at her. "You wouldn't say it, but I know that this distance is already hurtin' ya, and you don't deserve that. You _don't_. But that's all you're ever gonna get from me."

The ice snapped, her feet slipped, eyes closing as she plunged into the dark and freezing waters, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away hastily. "You're over-thinking things," she managed, her voice choked and husky.

Gin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Rangiku. I should have known better. This could all have been avoided if I hadn't kept makin' the dates."

"I suppose I can be blamed for that," Rangiku muttered, "you being wrapped around my finger and all that nonsense." He said nothing, and she remained rigid in her seat, catching the tears as they came. Her bottom lip trembled, but she beat back the urge to really cry with every ounce of self restraint that she had left. "It's fine," she declared after a while, "it's perfectly fine. The dates were fun. I won't… I won't regret them."

"That's good."

"I get it. It's fine. I won't hold it against you. In fact," Rangiku took a deep breath to steady her tone, "you're going to be back in the city next year. We can go out to dinner… as friends. Same time and place as usual."

Gin lifted his head. "Really," he said weakly.

"Of course." Rangiku couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her purse and slipped it onto her shoulder, standing from her chair. "I'll just… I mean, I…" Another stupid tear fell from her lashes. "H-Have a nice flight, Gin."

He remained where he was, staring woodenly at her abandoned coffee cup. The bells above the café door jingled pleasantly as she departed, stepping out into the sunny morning, and he looked up in time to see her disappear into the crowd of happy couples. "I won't."

**To Be Continued**


	5. And They Lived

**A/N: **Welcome to the last chapter of Beautiful Stranger (it'll be a short one), and thank you for reading! When we last left off, our heroes had endured quite a load of pain. But hey, sometimes pain can be just what the doctor ordered. Will they make amends? Let's watch!

**Disclaimer: **Bleach is an awesome manga series created by the equally awesome Tite Kubo-sensei! I have no ownership of his work, his characters, or any other mentioned copyrighted materials.

**Beautiful Stranger**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

**And They Lived…**

In the past, when Rangiku's relationships had terminated after little progression, she cried for days and sought out the nearest available shoulder to drown in her tears. And true, there was quite a bit of crying for this break-up as well, but not nearly as much. Part of getting older, she supposed. She was able to get through telling Shinji what happened with little more than a sniffle, and did her best to smile when he flew into rage, threatening all sorts of flat iron-induced violence against Gin.

But there were other things to worry about, like the party being thrown on the evening of the salon's last day in April, for all the stylists who had worked there. Rangiku was in charge of bringing enough plastic cups for all of them, and so she figured she would go to the store and stock up on more than necessary. She could always keep the spares and save time on washing cups for a while.

February ended, and March flew by without anyone noticing. The weather warmed, the snow showers subsided, the trees grew fresh green leaves, Easter bunnies and colorful eggs and pastels began filling the market. It was a turbulent time in nature, with cold fronts sweeping through and bringing everything from peaceful rainy days to window-rattling thunderstorms. Rangiku took it all in stride. It was a time of new beginnings, and soon she would have another salon to grow accustomed to.

Until then, she put on a new dress and strappy heels, fixed her hair, and gave Louie a thorough treatment of affection before grabbing the plastic cups she'd bought out of the pantry and leaving her apartment. She hadn't been able to bring herself to work on the salon's last day; she would have been crying into peoples' hair the entire time, she was sure. Shinji had managed, but kept texting her about feeling blue. She didn't blame him. They were going to be separated, which was hard on both of them, but the good news was that they still lived within the city and promised to visit each other.

"We'll do something fun," he'd insisted to her a few days prior. "Hiyori says you're welcome to join us for dinner. _Mi casa es su casa_, and all that jazz."

"Tell her I said thanks," Rangiku had responded, feeling truly grateful for the invitation. She hadn't been very social lately, as Momo had explained to her that she was entitled to a mourning period no matter how old she was, but she had plans to change that soon. The party tonight, though an unbearably sad occasion, would help spur her back into the swing of things.

By the time she arrived at the salon, there were about two dozen other stylists already there, busily putting up the last of the decorations. She aided them by ripping open the package of cups and stacking them next to the handful of two-liter soda bottles lining the reception desk.

It was awful, seeing the place so empty. The shelves once filled with merchandise were vacant. The chairs stood before spacious counters and glaring mirrors; all awards, personal pictures, and hair-styling tools were gone. Rangiku wandered over to her own chair, standing behind it as if she were tending to an invisible client, and had to swallow a sob. What was she getting so worked up about? She'd have a new chair and new clients come Monday.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she turned around. Shinji smiled down at her sympathetically. "I know, I know. It hurts me too." He pulled her into a warm embrace. "Let's try to enjoy ourselves, alright?"

Rangiku nodded once. "Yeah," she agreed, sighing heavily. How would she get on without Shinji, the most flamboyant straight guy she knew? It just wasn't fair… but then again, neither was life. They were all caught in a never-ending cycle of changes until the day they died. Surely this wouldn't be the only time that she'd have to switch jobs, leave a place behind, say goodbye to the people she loved.

Ironically, the fact that things changed was the only thing about life that never _would _change, and true to fashion, it never got any easier.

With the party underway, Rangiku put on a smile and focused on making the best of her night. She laughed, she ate, she drank, she enjoyed. And when the time came to close the salon's doors for good, she wasn't the only one who cried.

…

Unable to sleep that night, Rangiku dragged a chair out onto her balcony, grabbed a drink out of the refrigerator, and parked herself there. She felt sad and restless, which agitated Louie as well. He would come to her side every once in a while, whimpering for attention, and she soothed him with belly rubs.

There was a rumble in the air overhead, clouds thick with rain broiling above the city, flashes of light bursting through them. She hated thunderstorms, as did Louie. He would be sleeping at the foot of her bed tonight, without a doubt, and she would have the covers thrown over her head in the hopes of blocking out the lightning. Picking up her phone, she checked her weather app to see if it would be a particularly bad storm. The Doppler radar showed a small mass of oranges and yellows were headed their way. Nothing too drastic. It would probably be over in a matter of minutes.

When Rangiku got a whiff of rain on the wind, she stood, deciding to bring the chair inside before the deluge started. But she came back out onto the balcony, thinking she'd catch a few droplets on her skin before shutting herself inside. She lifted her drink to her lips, leaning on the railing and tucking her hair behind her ear. _So ends another perfectly good thing in my life_, she thought a bit glumly, keeping an expectant eye on the sky above.

"Excuse me!"

Rangiku's heart skipped a beat. She sincerely hoped that it was the beer genie this time.

Lowering her gaze, she found herself staring at none other than Gin Ichimaru, who stood on his hotel balcony directly in front of her. He wasn't smiling this time. There wasn't a shred of humor on his face. "Beg your pardon, but you're not thinkin' of jumpin', are ya?"

Rangiku remained where she was. "Why would I do that?"

He shrugged, or at least, she thought that he might have. "From where I'm standin', it looks like you got dumped by some cowardly asshole."

She frowned. Thunder purred overhead, and Louie let out a yip from inside the apartment. Rangiku took a step back from the rail, the wind causing her dress to whip about her thighs. "What are you doing here, Gin?" she asked him, putting the empty beer bottle down at her feet. "It isn't Valentine's Day."

"No, it isn't." Gin's form was illuminated by a quick strike of lightning. It was starting to rain, one heavy drop at a time striking the earth, filling the space between them. "Can we talk somewhere I won't be shoutin' at ya?"

Rangiku remembered the words she had thrown at him back in February. _Friends_. They were friends now, right. She nodded. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Of course, she didn't have to, but she wanted to be an adult about… whatever this was. Though the fact that he was in the city months ahead of his scheduled time struck her as odd. What _was _he doing there? She went indoors, grabbing a light pink raincoat that she'd recently purchased and throwing it on over her dress. "Be right back, Louie," she said to the nervous dog, turning the television on to distract him from the storm.

By the time she got to the lobby, a downpour had begun, the smell of wet pavement pungent when she emerged into the night. She flipped up her hood and walked towards the hotel. Gin met her halfway. He seemed to have forgotten his coat this time. "I, uh… remembered you tellin' me that the salon was closin' tonight," he said sheepishly. "How are you feelin'?"

A drop of rain landed on Rangiku's nose. "I've been better."

He looked away from her. "Right. A-Anyway, you asked me what I was doin' here, which is a good question, considerin' that usually I'd be starin' at the ceiling of a motel room halfway across the country right about now." She said nothing, so he pressed onwards. "In the effort of savin' ya one of those speeches you've probably heard in movies more times than you can count, I'll cut straight to the chase and say that I made a mistake."

Rangiku stared up at him through the hood of her dripping raincoat. "How?"

"I guess you like the speech," Gin sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was getting drenched. "I meant what I said in February, Ran. You _are _wonderful, and charmin', and funny and driven and sweet… and beautiful, so very beautiful. I don't know how I possibly thought that I could let go of all that and still be happy with what I had." A soft rumble echoed through the sky. "Getting to travel the world is great. Bein' somewhere new and different every few days is exciting. But what does that matter if I wake up every mornin' with no one by my side?"

"Not much, I'd imagine," Rangiku muttered a bit spitefully.

"Exactly." Gin cast a look into the street. "I'm not expectin' you to forgive me. Really, I'm not. But in case you decide to be an angel and shed some mercy my way, I just wanted you to know that I won't be goin' anywhere for a while."

She regarded him cautiously. "What do you mean?"

"Reason number two for my bein' here," he laughed shortly, "I'm sort of… between jobs right now." His smile remained fixed in place as the information sunk into Rangiku's skull. "I realized, around two days after I'd left, that there was finally somethin', someone worth givin' up my wanderin' for." He shook his head. "It's a shame that I couldn't have realized it before I'd chased you away."

They stood in the rain, neither of them speaking for a while. People continued to walk past, undoubtedly giving them dirty looks for hogging the sidewalk. Rangiku allowed herself to breathe. "What will you do, then?" she asked, wondering how much of her trust she should extend. "You've been moving around your whole life, Gin. Could you really sit still for more than a few days?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, finally lifting his eyes to hers. "But I'm willin' to try."

Rangiku was cold and wet, the wind causing a shiver to run up her spine. She must have never dried after falling into that icy lake. "Show me," she murmured, drawing the raincoat tighter around her form. "Show me that you can, and I'll… I'll see what I can do." Turning for the apartment building, she got as far as the front doors before she couldn't help but look over her shoulder. He still stood there, staring after her, soaked and rather pitiful, but a tentative smile had found its way to his face. She returned it before slipping inside.

When she woke up the next day, the sun had come out, the city was alive with activity, and there was one unread text message on her phone from Gin.

_Good morning_, it read simply.

Rangiku sat up in bed, sunlight coming in through the window and warming her skin as she typed out the most appropriate response that she could think of: _Good morning_.

…

"You wouldn't believe how little they charge to do hair here. And they've got, like, this crazy bionic treatment that'll leave it ramrod straight for a good six months, no matter what you do to it. I know! Why don't _we_ ever get that stuff, huh?" Rangiku held her phone in one hand, a laundry basket in the other as she walked barefoot across the floor, heading towards the door. "Ugh, Shinji, for the last time I am _not _going to… why would I even _say _something like that?"

"_I just want to hear how it sounds_!" came the enthusiastic voice on the other line.

Rangiku rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll let you know as soon as I learn the word for strawberry. Now go do something about your pregnant wife! Shouldn't she be craving weird things by now?"

"_God, you don't know the half of it._"

Hanging up the phone after a quick farewell, Rangiku dropped it onto the sofa, causing Louie and his pink-collared look-alike to glance up at her questioningly. "Play nice, you two. That goes double for you, Lucy. I know you're younger and more energetic than he is, but you can't go pushing him around like you usually do." She grabbed hold of the door and pulled it open, stepping out onto the balcony and breathing in the warm, moisture filled air.

Gin sat on the chair in the corner, staring at his laptop and looking pensive. Rangiku set the laundry basket down and grabbed the sheets that she had allowed to air dry on the rail. "Having trouble?" she asked him as she removed the weights that she had been using to keep the blankets from flying off in the breeze.

"Little bit," Gin rubbed his chin. "If you could pick one word to describe that restaurant we ate at last night, what would it be?"

Rangiku hummed thoughtfully. "What's the Spanish word for 'exquisite'?"

"_Exquisito_," he replied, writing it down. "You know, darlin', if we're gonna be here in Puerto Rico for the next few months, you should make an effort to learn the language."

She folded the last of the blankets and placed them in the basket, then skipped over to where he sat, moving behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "How about you teach me?" she said flirtatiously, kissing his cheek and looking over the travel article he was writing. Gasping suddenly, she pointed out a word on the screen. "_Novia. _I know that one!" She swatted at his shoulder. "What are you doing, writing about me in your articles?"

"Hey! Women read this stuff, too. They should know that there are fun things for them to do out here in the Caribbean." Gin slipped a hand into her hair and pulled her down, kissing her deeply. She drew back after a few seconds.

"But aren't we at an advantage because the magazine pays most of our expenses?"

"They don't need to know that."

Rangiku scoffed and went to retrieve the laundry basket, taking a moment to admire the shimmering ocean in the distance. So Gin had found a job that allowed him to wander – though not nearly as much as he used to – and she'd ended up doing more traveling in the last year than she ever had in her life. It wasn't so bad. Even Louie had himself a traveling companion these days; a female miniature schnauzer that Gin had picked up at the shelter shortly after they'd moved in together. Her mother was jealous of her new exotic lifestyle, her father hardly approved of her relationship. Everybody won! "And for your information," Rangiku shot at Gin, "I _have _learned some Spanish."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

She sent him a smoldering look. "_Hazme el amor_."

Gin's eyebrow shot up. "I think you've been watchin' too many of those soap operas in your spare time." They stared at each other a moment longer, then he stood from the chair and abruptly closed the laptop. "But, you know, if you insist, I can always finish the article later."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Rangiku giggled as he kissed her passionately, reaching past her to open the balcony door, then carefully guiding her indoors.

"_Beautiful Stranger…_

_Love of my life."_

**The End**

**A/N: **Another happy, romantic ending! …you know, one of these days I'm going to unload the angst of the century, without warning, just to cleanse myself of all this gooey, lovey-dovey joy. In case you were wondering what Rangiku said to Gin so smolderingly, 'hazme el amor' translates to 'make love to me.' It pays to be bilingual. :D Also, the last two lines are from the song Beautiful Stranger by Clazziquai, which the title was based off of.

Once again, thanks for joining me for this story! I hope you enjoyed it, and that it made your February and Valentine's or Singles Awareness Days a little more entertaining. Until next time!

**/Princess Kitty1/**


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